[Janet Kenny]

Gather the stars. . .
Gather the stars together, let them glow
in vases, stem the ebb and flow of tides,
the groaning growth of mountains, let them
gather strength in pools, or start the long
slow wearing down to being plains, make still
the movement of tectonic plates, the surging
power of magma breaking through the surface
clay; suspend the laws of nature for one day:
Mankind is playing Christmas games again.

Break up the tanks, let rifles rust away
scuttle the fleets, build silos just for grain,
make ploughshares out of swords and grounded
planes; suspend the laws of nature for one day:
Mankind is playing Christmas games again

[Janet Kenny]

SynthesisBANNED POST

T he scene is now. Androcles,
discovered dead, is sitting at a table
sipping tea. He seems composed, not ill
at ease. Onto a perfect off-white rug
one finger bleeds.

A man comes in from off the street,
his throat torn out. The lion’s breath
still in his mouth, the smell of blood
and breakfast heavy on his hands
he sits and pours himself a cup –
he takes command..

The lion’s dead, he says: and in a book
with places marked by rubber bands,
he writes the lion’s weight and age,
then jots the fable down in half a dozen lines—
Sign this release, he says, and you will find
in time that God will waive the fines.'

And with the thorn in his dead hand
Androcles signs.

[Janet Kenny]

The Prospector

A long day I’ve had of it,
and a tiring one ,
and little to show for it
but this loose scree
of words like dinosaurs.
The fossilised remains of once
great moments.

I’ve tried the words again.
Again I’ve failed –
what use is it to me that Keats
once wrote, thou still unravished
bride of quietness , and tore
the language from God’s living
throat. I fossick, find, make space
back of the truck--say virgin girl
lets go. Its time to fuck

[Janet Kenny]

Going North

Prepare your soul for citronella nights,
for cane toads big as houses at your door,
for mozzies by the half a billion bites
for friends and rellies calling by the score.

Get ready for new moons that bring you life,
for old moons left in buckets on the shore,
for islands, each a symbol of delight,
some further out ‘or what’s a heaven for’

[Diana B]

Janet

I'm glad you've been able to post a few more. They ARE good!

These are some of the lines he's written that I most enjoyed:

I am the sigh of soft shoe
shuffles done in doorways,

the groaning growth of mountains

I also like "The Prospector" and "Going North".

Thanks for sharing them

Di

[Janet Kenny]

Diana,
Thank you for letting me know that you found something worth while in Dennis's poems. I probably haven't picked a sufficiently representative selection. He works and reworks poems for years. He has a way of permanently fixing an image in one's mind.

They describe certain male classical dancers as "noble". I think that Dennis is a noble poet.

Best wishes,
Janet

[Janet Kenny]

Tongue-tied

BANNED POST

In the country of the blind,

where the one-eyed man is king,

and the bird-song in the morning

is the loudest loveliest thing,

BANNED POST

they won’t speak to me of mountains,

(say the concept is absurd)

I can’t speak of stars or fountains:

beauty is a singing bird.

BANNED POST

And the bird is soft and feathers,

note by note and piled up high:

in the glory of the morning

it alone becomes the sky.

BANNED POST.....

Dennis Greene.

BANNED POST

[Mark Allinson]

For many days now I have been meaning to drop by and say how much I admire Dennis's work. I have had the pleasure of reading him for some time, via other boards. He is one of the few really fine "undiscovered" Oz poets, and working under extremely trying personal restrictions which would stop most of us writing altogether.

Dennis has a strong soul, which comes through in his work. And surely, one day, his due recognition will come.

Thank you, Janet, for showcasing this growing body of fine work.



------------------
Mark Allinson

[Tim Murphy]

What Mark said.

[Janet Kenny]

Thank you Tim and Mark for your understanding of the extraordinary strength of character which motivates Dennis to write and which, I believe, also illuminates his writing.

In the end, the writers who move us do so because of something beyond the average in their capacity to see and feel. If there's one thing they have in common, I believe that's what it is.
Janet

[This message has been edited by Janet Kenny (edited February 17, 2005).]